


Saturday’s Song

by emynn (orphan_account)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Dirty Talk, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-04
Updated: 2011-10-04
Packaged: 2017-11-14 20:53:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/519405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/emynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The song has ended, but as the songwriter wrote, the melody lingers on…much to Severus’s chagrin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saturday’s Song

**Title:** Saturday’s Song  
 **Author:** [](http://emynn.dreamwidth.org/profile)[](http://emynn.dreamwidth.org/)**emynn**  
 **Other pairings/threesome:** Harry/Ginny implied  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Word count:** 10,062  
 **Content/Warning(s):** (highlight for spoilers) *Nada*  
 **Cliché:** (highlight for spoilers) *A multitude of them, but the big one is Severus sending Harry away for his own good because he doesn’t think he is good enough for him.*  
 **Summary:** The song has ended, but as the songwriter wrote, the melody lingers on…much to Severus’s chagrin.  
 **A/N:** Thank you so much to D for being such a fantastic beta. *smooches* Long live the clichés!

 

 

  
** Saturday’s Song **

 

 

Saturday.

Severus groaned as the sunlight streamed through the window. Carefully drawing his robe around him, he moved towards the lavatory to see to his morning ablutions.

A perfunctory glance in the mirror assured him nothing had changed. Of course, it would be ridiculous to expect some sort of transformation to appear on his face. It was just a Saturday like any other. It was just a Saturday like any other, and he was still the same ugly, worn down bastard he always was.

Not hungry enough for breakfast, Severus filled a glass with water and padded back to the bedroom. He rustled through the drawer of his bedside table, tossing aside the scraps of parchment and quills, the coins and the odd trinkets. It had been months since he had last allowed himself this luxury, and he still half-hoped he couldn’t find it. The quick pleasure it would bring him was hardly worth the pain it would leave, but … what of it. He was a weak man. That much he knew.

His hand finally clutched around a small wooden box. Satisfied, he pulled it out and sat down on the bed. He traced the outline of the tree inlaid on the lid, allowing his fingertips to feel the groove of each branch.

He didn’t have to open it. Nobody was forcing him. But he did.

The sound of a tiny orchestra playing a simple, jazz-tinted song filled the air. Severus closed his eyes in relief. Suddenly exhausted, even though he had not been awake for long, he fell back against the pillows, his fingers still clutching the box tightly.

~*~

“What the hell is your problem?” Potter raged, his voice growing louder with each word. “You run an apothecary. I’m offering you money to brew a potion. Why the fuck won’t you take it?”

“Language, Potter,” Severus hissed. A chime ringing indicated that Madam Falkins had left, leaving the two of them alone in the shop. “You’re frightening away my customers.”

“Oh, as if you weren’t doing that on your own,” Potter snapped. “Don’t you know you need _some_ type of people skills in order to run a shop?”

“If you do not approve of the way I run my shop, you are perfectly welcome to leave,” Snape said, and turned away to examine a jar of lacewing flies. “I believe you know where the door is.”

There was no reply, and Severus was sure Potter had finally wised up and let him be. Then he felt a hand grip his elbow and whirl him around.

“It’s not even for me, you jackass,” Potter said through gritted teeth. “It’s for Teddy. And you can’t be arsed enough to give a damn, can you, you pathetic bastard? How could I have been so naïve to think you had changed?”

“People never change,” Snape ground out. He twisted in Potter’s grip, but he only held on tighter. “You’ll always be an arrogant fool who thinks he can just waltz in and take what he wants.”

Potter laughed. It was a short, barking sound, rather like the laugh his godfather would make when one of his pranks had gone off successfully. “What do you know of what I _want_ , Snape?”

Snape grunted as Potter pulled him flush against his body. To his surprise, he felt the unmistakable firmness of an erection against his backside. “Potter,” he rasped in warning.

Potter thrust his hips forward slightly, the feeling of his erection unmistakable. “That’s what I _want_ , Snape. Don’t get me wrong, I want the Wolfsbane for Teddy too, but there are seven other potions masters in Diagon Alley alone who could brew it for me. But why do I keep coming back to you, even though you’re an absolute berk every single fucking time?” Another almost imperceptible thrust of the hips. “ _That’s_ why.”

Severus stood still, hearing only the sound of Potter panting in his ear. He could feel heat pooling in his groin as Potter’s prick rubbed against him. Perhaps if he backed up ever so slightly, Potter wouldn’t know that the action was intentional…

“Nice try, Snape,” Potter breathed. “I know you want it too. Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you looked at me every single time I walked through that door.”

Severus growled and whipped around, effectively pinning Potter to the wall. “You insolent little fool,” he whispered against Potter’s ear. “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

“Yes,” Potter groaned. “Snape.”

“It’s Severus,” Severus said, and bit the part of skin where Potter’s neck met his shoulders. “Say it.”

“Severusssss,” Potter agreed, sagging against him. “Fuck.”

“Not yet,” Severus said. A quick wave of his wand locked the store. He turned back to Potter and cupped the front of his robe. “My, my. So hard for your nasty old professor. What would your friends say?”

“Don’t care,” Harry said, his hips canting.

“No?” Severus asked, and parted Potter’s robes, pleased to discover he wore nothing underneath. Finally, the boy had grown up and stopped wearing those ridiculous Muggle clothes.

“No,” Potter repeated. “Been waiting too long for this. Ahh!” he gasped as his prick was exposed to the cold air of the shop. “Fuck. Severus!”

“How long, Potter?” Severus inquired, wordlessly Summoning a jar of lubricant and dipping his fingers in it. It was warm to the touch and quite slippery. The benefits of fucking in an apothecary–all the finest lubricants at your disposal. “How long have you wanked to the thought of me stroking your cock?”

“Fifth year,” Potter admitted with a gasp as Severus rubbed his thumb over the tip of his cock. “I’d leave Occlumency so fucking hard. As soon as I got back to the dormitories I had to take it out and stroke it. I couldn’t help it.”

Severus continued his ministrations, resisting the urge to tend to his own aching cock. “Did your friends see? Did they see you stroke your cock?”

“Once,” Potter said. “Once Ron saw. He thought I was having a nightmare and pulled back the curtains. But I was too far gone, I couldn’t stop. I just kept stroking and stroking, and I came, ahh!”

Severus squeezed the base of Potter’s cock. “Not yet, Potter. I am learning all sorts of interesting secrets, and who knows when I will be privy to them again?” He didn’t let go of Potter’s prick, but he let the other hand creep under his robes and tweak a nipple. He was rewarded with a squeak from Potter. “What other fantasies do you harbour of your old professor?”

“In class,” Potter said immediately, “I’d imagine you were sitting behind your great big desk stroking yourself as you stared at me. We all thought you were grading papers, but you were stroking, stroking. And then you’d tell me to stay behind for detention, and you’d bend me over the desk and fuck me, fuck me, Severus!”

Severus increased the speed of his stroking, aroused by Potter’s words. How many times had he played out the exact same fantasy in his mind? “You want me to fuck you?” he asked. “You want me to spread you across my desk and fuck you so hard you can scarcely remember your own name?”

“Yes! Yes, Severus!” Harry cried. “Please.”

“One more,” Severus demanded. “One more fantasy, and I shall let you come. I trust you have one more stored up in that lascivious mind of yours.”

Potter looked frantic, his face flushed. “I’m sucking you. I’m sucking you, and you’re just fucking my mouth and pulling on my hair like you can’t help yourself, and then you’re coming, coming in my mouth.”

“Come. Come now!” Severus commanded. For once, Potter obeyed him, coming in thick, heavy spurts. Severus captured it all in his hands. As Potter sagged against him, chest heaving, Severus held his hand in front of his face. “Lick, and perhaps I will allow you to live out that final fantasy.”

Severus groaned as Potter’s tongue swirled around his digits and licked them clean. If the boy sucked cock the way he sucked finger, he would likely not be able to stand the rest of the afternoon. “Enough,” he said, impatient. “Kneel.”

Once more, Potter showed that he did in fact have an obedient bone in his body. “What a sight. Harry Potter, on his knees before me. Well, have at it. Fulfill your fantasy. Don’t let it be said I never give you an- ahh!”

Potter had made quick work of removing Severus’s hard prick from his robes and wrapping his lips around it. Severus couldn’t help himself from thrusting forward.

“Yes. Yes, that’s it. Suck my cock. Look at you – kneeling before me, sucking me, trying to make me come. Oh, but you’ll have to work for it, won’t you?”

Potter removed his mouth from Severus’s shaft and licked his heavy balls, while his hand continued stroking his prick. His eyes shone brightly with lust and a keen awareness of the effect he was having on Severus.

“Fuck. Your mouth is so hot. You were made for this, weren’t you? Made to suck my cock.” Severus knew he was babbling, but he didn’t care. He hadn’t been this hard in years, and it would likely be years again before he had another partner as attractive as Potter. “That’s it. Play with my balls. Suck me.”

Potter gave one long lick of Severus’s shaft and closed his lips around it once more. Then, very deliberately, he hummed.

“Fuck!” Severus shouted. “I’m coming, I’m coming. Ahhh, Potter!”

Potter swallowed it all, not wasting a drop. Overwhelmed by the intensity of his orgasm, Severus leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. Potter stood and straightened his robes, then adjusted Severus’s as well.

“All right?”

Severus could only bring himself to nod.

“Good.”

Then Potter kissed him.

Severus pulled back in shock. “What are you doing?”

Potter smiled. “That’s what I _really_ wanted.”

~*~

Severus groaned as his release overtook his senses. The memory of Harry’s full lips against his own had always been his undoing. Never before had any of his lovers wanted to kiss him after servicing him, but Harry loved to do it and even seemed to treat it as an honour.

He rolled over on his side, breathless. He had no handkerchief nearby, so a spell would have to suffice to clean up the mess.

A moment later, satisfied enough with the cleanliness of the bed, he once again turned his attention to the box. He had always been taken by the beauty of the tree gracing the lid. Its branches bore no leaves, yet it made it all the more striking. On the box the tree was no larger than his thumb, but in life, it would reach to the sky.

~*~

Severus wasn’t one for the simple pleasures of life.

He had no special fondness for sweets. A novel was a novel, whether or not it was read in front of the fire. He didn’t love the sound of birds chirping, or children laughing, or the wind rustling through the trees.

But he _did_ enjoy watching Harry fly.

Harry possessed a grace in the air that he lacked on land. He looked completely natural as he shot through the sky like a comet, swerved around trees, and dove back towards the ground with breathtaking speed – all with a dexterity Severus never could have managed, even if he spent twenty hours a day on a broom. And Harry looked so damn _happy_ when he was in the air. Even when Severus had gone to see him at the Quidditch World Cup (in disguise, of course), Harry had been grinning like a fool even as he just barely managed to steal the Snitch out of the Portuguese Seeker’s grasp, securing a 170 - 20 win for England.

Severus never worried about Harry when he was in the air. He was safe and secure on a broomstick, and far less likely to get into trouble.

Shading his eyes with his hand, he gazed up at the sky and watched as a small dark dot came closer and grew to reveal Harry. As he swept down slowly to earth, Harry waved and called out a greeting. Severus held his own arm up in the air and waited for Harry to complete his descent.

When Harry reached Severus, he didn’t dismount. Instead, he held his hand out and took Severus’s in his. “Jump on.”

Severus furrowed his brow. “What stunt do you have up your sleeve?”

“No stunt. Just something to show you.” He tugged at Severus. “Come on. You trust me, don’t you?”

Severus wasn’t about to honour that with a response, but he wasn’t about to let Harry think he was a coward either. Carefully, he climbed on behind Harry and wrapped his arms around his waist. “Onward.”

Unlike Harry, Severus had very few happy memories of being on a broom. Flying lessons had been humiliating, and he only learned to become a proficient flyer through sheer stubbornness. It was a necessity, a practical matter, not one that brought him any joy. It was just another way to get from point A to point B.

He watched warily as his cottage diminished to a tiny pinpoint in the distance. Unconsciously, he tightened his grip around Harry’s abdomen. Harry wouldn’t plummet to his death, and he was willing to bet Harry wouldn’t let him fall either.

By the time Harry dipped the front of the broom and began circling a patch of trees, it was nearly dusk. Severus strained his eyes to make sense of his surroundings. They were in a quiet wooded area where there did not seem to be any houses. Harry guided them down to a small clearing surrounded by trees with dark emerald leaves and pale grey bark. _Aspen_ , Severus thought absently. But that wasn’t what was unusual.

“Is that a table and chairs?”

“Can’t get anything past you, can I?” Harry asked as their feet landed on the ground. “I suppose I should also let you know supper awaits.”

“I can see that,” Severus replied as he walked over to the small table that was covered with a cream-coloured tablecloth. Severus reached down to touch one of the place-settings; it was warm, and clearly had some type of preserving charm on it, as the chicken looked as if it had just come out of the oven.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Harry said. With a wave of his wand, a dozen fat candles floated in the clearing, their flickering flames casting a warm glow over the tableau before them. Apparently satisfied, Harry pocketed his wand and turned to Severus. “Do you like it?”

“It’s charming,” Severus admitted, and allowed Harry to pull out a dining chair for him. “But what brought on this sudden desire to dine among the wood nymphs?”

Harry only smiled. “Eat your dinner. Wouldn’t want it to get cold.”

Severus enjoyed eating dinner with Harry. Unlike too many individuals, Harry didn’t see the need to fill every silence with chatter. He also didn’t seem to mind Severus’s biting tongue. It made him a slightly less irritating dinner companion than most.

It was only when they were wiping their mouths with linen napkins following a scrumptious crème brulee that Severus finally repeated his initial question.

“Why, Severus. Don’t you know?”

“If I knew, would I be asking you?” Severus growled. “Just tell me, you twit.”

Harry took Severus’s hand across the table. “It’s our anniversary, of course.”

Severus balked. “Have you gone mad?” he asked. “We have no anniversary. It’s not like we’re a – ”

“A couple?” Harry suggested. “It’s been a year of sex and dinners. And I don’t care how good of a fuck I may be – I know you’d have tossed me out on my ear far earlier if you didn’t actually care for me. And I haven’t been with anybody else, and I’m fairly certain you haven’t either.” He looked suddenly hesitant. “You haven’t been, have you?”

“That’s entirely besides the point,” Severus snapped. “I won’t have you harbouring these romantic delusions – ”

“You don’t have to say you love me,” Harry interrupted. “And I won’t even say I love you. _If_ I love you. But we have _something_ going on, and it’s been going on for a year, which is lot longer than my other … somethings have lasted. And I think that alone is worth celebrating, don’t you think?”

Severus knew he was supposed to be fighting the urge to snatch his hand back and Disapparate. But rather, he was feeling the exact opposite desire. This was dangerous, this little infatuation Harry had. Severus had been wrong to let it drag out for so long – a full year, Merlin! – but he couldn’t bring himself to end it just yet. Right now, it seemed like a very smart decision to sit in the middle of a forest with Harry’s hand in his as they enjoyed their own private oasis. So instead, he raised Harry’s hand to his lips and kissed it.

“You’ve been reading far too many romance novels, Harry.”

Harry smiled, and it felt like the sun rising at dusk – unnaturally warm and breathtaking. “I’d like to see any romance novel try to top what I’m living.” He rose and kissed Severus across the table. “Now, what you say we shag under the stars?”

~*~

That was the night it had all began, Severus remembered as he pressed his lips against the cool wood of the box. It had been one thing when he and Harry were just fucking. That was just body to body, flesh to flesh. It was passing and fleeting.

But once there was acknowledgement that there was, as Harry said, _something_ between them, it became much more solid and terrifying.

It was not a life Severus was made for. The fears he had become accustomed to – the Cruciatus, of being outed as a spy, the Dark Lord, the Order – all paled in comparison to this matter of having _something_ with Harry Potter. From then on, he was doomed to live like a child peering through his fingers, or an explorer clearing away the branches of a massive tree, frightened to see what was set before him but unable to tear his sight away.

~*~

Harry was surprisingly punctual. Every evening at 5:47, he Flooed into Severus’s house. The few times he was late or couldn’t make it, he wrote Severus far ahead of time to let him know. Severus could set his clock by it.

On Fridays, Harry always brought a bottle of wine, and never the same kind twice. Sometime after leaving school, Harry became a bit of a wine connoisseur. He claimed it was because he bought a bottle to celebrate his move into his own house, but found it missing something. Ever since then, he bought a bottle a week to try to find that elusive perfect wine. Severus thought he was mad, but he wasn’t about to argue. He enjoyed the wine and the man who brought it.

That night he was hoping for a full-bodied pinot noir. It was his wine of choice when he wanted to savour supper, when he and Harry would spend the evening flirting and seducing each other until one of them finally gave in and kissed with the passion they could no longer suppress. Then they would retire to the bedroom where they would move against each other, slow and heady, until their releases sent them spiralling over the edge and then collapsed against the pillows, utterly spent.

Severus tapped his fingers against the arm of his chair. Harry was late, and he was irritated. This was not the type of mood that could be satisfied with his right hand. He needed _Harry_.

Severus paused. He knew that he meant to tell himself he needed Harry’s arse or his mouth. But that wasn’t the truth. This slow, sensuous mood he was in … he wouldn’t say no to the sex, of course. But what he was _truly_ craving was that feeling of the utmost intimacy with Harry.

The clock chimed nine, interrupting Severus from travelling down the mental path he so carefully avoided. He stood and looked out the window. Perhaps Harry had decided to fly instead and it took him longer.

The stars glittering in the night sky taunted him.

“Severus?”

Severus whirled around, disappointed and annoyed to see Hermione Granger’s head in his fireplace. “What is it? I’m busy.”

“Have you heard from Harry?” she asked, completely ignoring him. “It’s been hours.”

“Why would I have heard from Potter?” Severus asked instinctively as his heart raced with the sinking feeling that something was terribly wrong.

“Sir, I know you have convinced Harry you need to be absurdly discreet, but now really isn’t the time. We both know you and Harry are involved, which is why I checked with you first when I realized Harry and Ron were missing.”

“He’s missing?” Severus asked. He felt his knees buckle beneath him. He reached for the windowsill behind him to steady his stance. “What do you know?”

“There was a mission,” Granger said quickly. “I don’t really know much, but Harry was at our house when Ron was called for it. Draco Malfoy’s boy was taken. Malfoy’s convinced Mulciber is involved. They found blood in the room.”

“But why would Harry go? He’s a Quidditch twit.”

Granger laughed humourlessly. “This is Harry we’re talking about. Do you think he’d let something like that stop him? He insisted on going with Ron to look for him, but that was at noon.”

“Why would he go after Draco’s son?” Severus asked, mostly to himself. “They despise each other.”

Granger rolled her eyes. “He went because of you, you idiot. He wasn’t going to let your godson’s only child be killed. Now, do you have any idea where Mulciber could be? Or perhaps you and Harry have some sort of communication method we could use?”

Severus shook his head. Blood pounded in his ears and he swallowed against the rising feeling of nausea. Harry, _his_ Harry, was missing, very likely in danger, and there was nothing he could do. He had gotten careless. He knew Harry had a propensity for getting into trouble; why hadn’t he thought ahead and insisted on some sort of tracking charm? Discreetness be damned – he should have _done_ something.

“Snape? Are you alright?”

“If you’ll excuse me, Miss Granger,” Severus said, somewhat put off by the rasp in his voice, “I have a rather urgent appointment to keep.”

He didn’t even look to see if she left the fireplace. He knew he should take some items with him – a dagger, perhaps, or some potions – but he couldn’t waste time hunting for them now. His wand would have to suffice. Quickly donning his cloak, he opened the front door to leave.

And ran right into Harry Potter.

“Hello,” Harry said. “Sorry I’m late.”

Severus slammed the door in his face.

Leaning up against it, he could feel the door shake as Harry pounded on it to be let in. Severus would eventually open the door; he always did. But right now, as the feeling that coursed through his veins far too powerfully to be deemed something as mundane as “relief” made him stagger, he couldn’t face Harry just yet.

How had his lover managed to completely destroy him?

“Severus, please! I want to see you.”

Severus took a deep breath to compose himself. He was no coward. It didn’t matter that Harry – rather, the brief moment of the thought of being _without_ Harry – had shaken him to his core. Harry had been foolish and reckless and _rude_ , and Severus wasn’t about to let him get away with it.

He threw open the door.

“Severus,” Harry whispered. His face was pale, and there was a wide gash on his cheek. His robes were filthy and torn, and Severus had no doubt his body was bruised underneath. “Severus,” Harry repeated, and threw his arms around him.

Severus held Harry tight. He smelled of blood and sweat and countless other scents that proved he was still alive. Severus couldn’t get enough of it. He grasped Harry’s hair with one hand while still pulling Harry towards him with the other, all the while peppering his face with kisses, unconcerned with where they landed.

Harry seemed to also be trying to get as close to Severus as possible. “Severus,” he whimpered. “Severus.”

The sound brought Severus back to awareness. He pulled away from Harry. “What the _hell_ were you thinking? Running off like some foolhardy Auror with a death wish. Have you forgotten you’re just an utterly _idiotic_ Quidditch player?”

“I couldn’t just find out Scorpius was missing and do nothing,” Harry said. “You would have been devastated.”

“I don’t give a damn about Malfoy’s progeny,” Severus shouted. “I care about _you_ , you daft twit. And when you go off running around to save the world like you’re just about to wash the dishes or do some dusting, totally neglecting the fact that you could fucking _die_ , it makes me want to throttle you!”

A soft smile graced Harry’s lips. “That’s the first time you admitted that, you know.”

“I’m quite certain I’ve said I wanted to throttle you before,” Severus snapped.

“Not that.” Harry looped his arms around Severus’s neck. “Earlier. When you said you cared about me.”

Severus closed his eyes, feeling the fight go out of him. It was so much easier to lean against Harry. “It’s best that you drop that thought from your head. Nothing good can come of it.”

“I beg to differ,” Harry whispered.

“I cared for your mother, and see what that got her,” Severus rasped.

“A loyal friend who continued to love her even after death. I’ll take it.” He paused. “Besides, I doubt you cared for her in quite the same way.”

“What makes you say that?”

Harry tilted his head upward and brushed his lips over Severus’s. Severus latched on and leaned into the kiss, desperate to feel Harry’s tongue slip over his own. Absentmindedly, he pulled Harry fully into the house and shut the door.

It was many moments later that Severus realized they had divested each other of their clothing and were swaying nude in the parlour. He manoeuvred them to the centre of the room, where a thick carpet adorned the wooden floor. Gently, he pushed Harry to the floor.

Severus took a moment to study the man before him. At the moment, he was bloody, scarred, and bruised, but to Severus, he had never been more beautiful. His green eyes, glazed over with lust, followed Severus’s every move.

“Please, touch me,” Harry said in a husky tone.

“Patience,” Severus reprimanded. He Summoned a vial of lubricant and slicked up his fingers. Finally, when he could no longer resist, he ran his tongue up Harry’s hard prick.

“God! Severus!” Harry shouted. His hips bucked.

Severus teased Harry’s cock with light, swirling licks. With his hand, he slowly breached Harry’s hole, taking pleasure in the way his breath hitched.

Harry’s eyes were fluttering. Severus so loved it when he got like this – yearning to fully succumb to the pleasure he was experiencing by closing his eyes, but still desperate to see absolutely everything – that he decided to reward Harry. This time, when his tongue reached the tip of Harry’s prick, he took the whole thing in his mouth.

Harry moaned. Encouraged, Severus began to suck, matching the rhythm he was slowly fucking Harry with his fingers with. He loved the taste of Harry’s cock, loved how it seemed to be made to be sucked. He was quite certain he could spend an entire day simply worshipping it with his tongue and fingers and go to sleep content.

By now, Harry’s breath was coming in heaving pants his hips thrust upward seemingly of their own volition. Taking that as a sign, Severus removed his fingers from Harry’s arse and once more grabbed the lubricant.

“Severus,” Harry groaned in protest.

“One moment,” Severus said, and began to slick up his own cock. He barely managed to bite back a moan of his own at the contact.

“Enough,” Harry insisted. “In me, now. Please.”

Severus paused, wanting to just take in the sight of Harry, sprawled about before him, desperate and wanting _him_ , for just a little while longer. Then Harry reached out and grabbed his hand.

“Now,” Harry repeated. “Please.”

And how was Severus supposed to resist that?

Slowly, he positioned his cock and slid it in. He and Harry emitted complementing hisses of pleasure. Severus would never tire of the thrill of sliding into Harry’s hot arse. It felt so utterly perfect; it was no wonder he was addicted.

As hard as Severus tried to keep his thrusts slow and controlled, they inevitably sped up. With each cry of Harry’s, a voice in Severus’s head screamed “yes, yes, deeper, closer, more, more, more!”

“Yes, more,” Harry moaned, and Severus realized he had spoken all those words out loud. He leaned down and captured Harry’s mouth in a kiss, so hot and heavy that he was vaguely concerned he’d pass out.

Harry reached to grab his prick, but Severus knocked his hand out of the way. “You’ll come on my cock,” he growled. “On my cock. Mine. Mine. Harry!”

“Yours. Yes, Severus!” Harry shouted, and came in hot spurts against Severus’s chest.

Severus increased the intensity of his thrusts until he was nearly coming out of Harry’s hole with each movement. He groaned as he pounded Harry harder and faster. All too soon, he felt the tightening in his balls, and he slammed into Harry once more, screaming out his name as he found his release.

They stayed wrapped together on the carpet, their arms and legs entangled, too sated and boneless to move.

When the clock chimed ten, Harry finally kissed Severus’s cheek and rose. “I brought wine,” he said. “Pinot noir.”

Severus nodded and stood to find the corkscrew. “Excellent.”

When they sat on the couch, still nude, but now with wine in hand, Harry whispered, “I am, you know. Yours.”

Severus said nothing, but he couldn’t stop the slight quirk of his traitorous lips. “Hmm.”

~*~

Severus rolled over in bed, unable to get comfortable. The box slipped from his fingers and landed on the floor, hitting it with a sharp thud. Its lid opened, and immediately music filled the room.

He reached for it quickly to shut it, but the damage had been done. One lilting strain and he was already lost. Though the box sounded no words, Severus knew them, and they echoed in his mind, taunting him. He pulled the covers up tight around him as his heart formed its own response: _not enough, not enough._

~*~

Harry didn’t leave that weekend, but he had to be at practice first thing on Monday morning. Severus took the time to relax muscles that had gotten a fair amount of activity over the last few days. _You’re an old man, Severus,_ he thought, _a weekend of wild sex used to invigorate you, not put you out of commission._

Severus groaned as he stretched out all of his limbs. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that Harry had forgotten his rucksack. Despite his Slytherin upbringing, Severus was not one to snoop through the personal items of his acquaintances. But somehow he found he couldn’t resist opening it and peering inside.

There was nothing exciting in it; Harry’s legions of female fans would be highly disappointed. There was a change of clothes and some toiletries, as Harry always brought. There was an apple that was rather bruised and looked as if it had sat in the bag for a while, nestled against the empty chocolate bar wrapper. Severus smirked. Harry did have quite the sweet tooth.

He reached in the bag once more and pulled out a scroll of parchment. _Ah, things might get interesting now._

Not hesitating for a moment, Severus unrolled the scroll. A quick scan revealed it was a letter from Harry’s publicist about an upcoming article in _Quidditch Weekly_. Harry needed to read through it and note if there was anything he wanted to be stricken from the story.

Curious, Severus flipped to the next page. _HARRY POTTER FINDS HAPPINESS ON AND OFF THE QUIDDITCH PITCH,_ the story proclaimed.

Severus frowned as he skimmed the article. Harry mentioned that he was enjoying his time playing Quidditch and would keep up with it for at least a few more years, blushed over the mention of his “Quidditch-toned thighs,” and had nothing but positive things to say about the coach.

Then the interview turned personal. Harry mentioned that he was involved with somebody but wouldn’t comment on if it was serious or not. He talked about one day wanting a family and a home in the countryside. The interviewer commented that Harry’s eyes sparkled whenever he spoke of his future. All signs pointed to happiness.

A sinking feeling in his stomach, Severus turned to the final piece of parchment. A photograph of Harry and Ginny Weasley laughing as they exited a London restaurant greeted him.

Severus quickly rolled up the parchment and stuffed it back in Harry’s rucksack. It was rubbish. These articles always were. That’s what Harry always said. And Severus was no fool. He knew there was no such thing as quality, honest reporting in the Wizarding world.

But Harry? Harry was always honest. He didn’t know how to lie. Even when he tried to fib about being the one to take the last biscuit, he practically reeked of guilt.

And Severus knew Harry. Harry had never known the love of a family, and he craved it utterly. He yearned for the safety and security that unit offered. But what’s more, he wanted to be able to pass it on to others. Harry had too big a heart to keep it to himself.

Severus couldn’t possibly ask him to stay.

Harry deserved to be in a quiet cottage somewhere in the countryside where he could fly all the time without worrying about Muggles spotting him. And he deserved to have a beautiful wife who would worship him and give him lovely children to dote upon.

Severus knew Harry would deny it. Somehow, for Merlin knows what reason, he believed himself to have genuine romantic feelings for Severus. And being a loyal Gryffindor, he would never abandon him, not even for a chance of lifelong happiness. No, he’d rather be a martyr and stay with a worn out, greasy ex-Death Eater who was twenty years his senior and could never provide him a life of substance.

It was why Severus insisted on keeping their … acquaintanceship … quiet. Merlin, if the Wizarding world knew! Severus didn’t care what they said about him–and he knew they would–about how he was a filthy pervert who corrupted the Golden Boy. But he could never stand what Harry would have to endure. The taunts and whispers would hurt him. He would take the slurs against Severus as if they were personal insults, and he would be miserable.

But he would stay. Of that Severus had no doubt.

“Hey.”

Severus jumped. “Harry. What are you doing back so early?”

Harry laughed. “Did you look outside? The winds are so strong we could barely stay on our brooms. It’s about to start hailing.” He sidled up to Severus and wrapped his arms around his waist. “Didn’t think you’d mind having me back.”

“Hmph,” Severus said, but he kissed Harry anyway.

“I got you something,” Harry said as their lips parted. “Picked it up this morning.”

Severus winced. “Harry, I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I haven’t quite recovered from the weekend.”

“Oh, me neither,” Harry said immediately. “No worries there. That will have to wait for tonight. But here.” He dug into his robe pocket and handed Severus a plainly wrapped package. “I thought you might like it.”

Severus took it in his hands and carefully ripped the paper away. Inside was a small wooden box that fit perfectly in the palm of his hand. A tree made of a lighter-coloured wood was inlaid on the centre of the lid. Severus carefully stroked the branches of the leafless trees. “It’s lovely.”

“And practical,” Harry said with a grin. “It’s spelled. The box itself? That’s oak. The bloke who sold it to me says it offers strength and courage. The tree is made out of wood from an aspen tree, which is supposed to represent determination and overcoming fears and doubts.” He wrapped one arm around Severus’s waist and used his other hand to cover Severus’s own on top of the box. “It reminded me of us.”

“There were aspen trees at our dinner in the forest,” Severus said in a hushed voice.

“There were. I’m pleased you noticed.” And yes, Harry _did_ look exceptionally pleased.

“Hmm. Any other spells I should be aware of?”

“Of course. It’s a music box, and it’s spelled to me. It will only play if I’m alive and if I … well, if I feel something for you. A good something. So that way you won’t have to worry about me if I do something reckless and foolhardy again.” Harry paused. “Anyway, the song is whatever one you associate with our relationship, so it has meaning to you.”

“Intriguing,” Severus commented. His stomach felt like stone. It was clear now more than ever that he had let this drag on for much too long. Because of Severus’s own weakness and inability to cut it off, he was now stuck with a physical manifestation of Harry’s feelings for him. It would cut all the more deeply when he had to let Harry go.

It would hurt even more when the music stopped.

“Go on, open it,” Harry encouraged. “I want to hear the song.”

Reluctantly, Severus did. Immediately, a soft jazz ballad filled the air. He closed his eyes, taken back to the days of his childhood when his mother would sit by the window while playing old records, taking a mental escape from the harshness of her reality before her husband came home.

“It’s a sweet little song, isn’t it?” Harry asked. “But it sounds a little sad. What is it?”

Severus shut the box. “What type of professor would I be if I gave you all the answers? Do some research.”

“Not exactly a professor anymore,” Harry said.

“Thank you for the box,” Severus interjected. The last thing he wanted was for Harry to recognize the tune. “It’s both lovely and practical.”

Harry smiled. “I’m glad you liked it. I don’t like it when you worry.” He laced his fingers through Severus’s hair. “You’ve done enough of that in your life.”

“Hmm,” Severus said, and leaned into the touch. “I’m afraid no magical box will totally alleviate my concern for you.”

“Hush,” Harry said, and kissed his cheek. “The bloke also mentioned that the tree could change as we grew and our relationship evolved. Think we can make it grow? Maybe get some leaves on there?”

“Perhaps,” Severus said.

But unlike Harry, Severus was an excellent liar.

There was no way the tree would grow. He would never let it.

~*~

The house was far too quiet. At one point Severus hadn’t minded silence, relished it, in fact. With only typical house noises such as the ticking of a clock or wind coming through an open window, Severus was alone with just his thoughts.

But over the past two years, typical house noises had grown to include Harry’s voice, Harry’s laughter, Harry’s moans. Severus had welcomed those sounds into his daily routine without even realizing it, but now that they were gone, Severus found himself aching to even hear the sound of Harry shouting. Because now not only was he alone with just his thoughts, but also the accompaniment of a blasted music box that, despite his best efforts, would not stop playing that damn song.

~*~

Severus knew as soon as he heard the door slam that Harry had seen the papers.

“Severus? What the hell is this?”

Severus refused to look up from his desk where he had carefully arranged his books and parchment to look as though he were deep in work and not merely staring at where he had absently scribbled Harry’s name.

“Severus?”

He looked up, schooling his expression to one of passive indifference. “As I have not yet developed the power to see through walls, I’m afraid I have no idea what the hell it is.”

Harry stormed into the room and slammed the newspaper on Severus’s desk. “Don’t play dumb with me. You know _exactly_ what I’m talking about.”

Severus glanced down at _The Daily Prophet_. They had really outdone themselves with the headline: _EX-PROFESSOR AND SLYTHERIN SEX GOD SNAPE DEFLOWERS THE CHOSEN ONE,_ followed by in smaller letters, _Snape says Potter a “passable way to spend an evening.”_

“Ah. I see they decided to run it.”

“Of course they decided to run it!” Harry shouted. “You gave them every scandalous detail they could possibly want!” He took several deep breaths, evidently trying to regain his composure. His eyes were suspiciously bright. “How could you?” he whispered.

Severus shrugged. “You were always hinting with the subtlety of a hippogriff that you wished for our relationship to be public knowledge. A source apparently informed Ms. Skeeter about us. She approached me for comment and offered to pay me quite handsomely. Why, it seemed like a boon to both of us.”

“You got _paid_ for this?” Harry screeched. “You always said you didn’t need money, that your business was incredibly profitable. How could you do this?”

Severus turned back to his parchment and began drawing deliberate squiggles around Harry’s name. “Even you should know the difference between want and need. Just because one doesn’t have a _need_ for something doesn’t mean he can’t want it.”

Harry let out a very audible gasp. “Severus, you can’t possibly … look, the article says that you seduced me to get revenge on my father, that it wasn’t torture since I inherited some of my mother’s looks. You couldn’t possibly have said that. Severus, look at me!”

Severus forced himself to meet Harry’s eyes. His head felt like it weighed a ton. “Yes?”

Harry shook his head. “I don’t understand what’s gotten into you. This article makes it sound like you’re only using me for sex. That’s just Skeeter, isn’t it? You didn’t really say all those horrible things.” Harry looked as if he repeated that to himself enough times, it would be true.

“Believe what you will,” Severus replied.

“So all this time … all this time I’ve been with you, thinking that you cared about me, and you just wanted to fuck me?”

“Would you like a written thank you?” Severus asked with exaggerated politeness. “I assure you, your arse _was_ much appreciated.”

Harry took a step back as though he had been hit. “I can’t believe this. This isn’t you, Severus. I know it.” He looked back at him, pleading. “Somebody put you up to this, didn’t they? You can tell me.”

“Nobody put me up to anything,” Severus said, raising his voice to be heard over Harry’s. “I suggest you leave before you embarrass yourself.”

“Leave?” Harry asked, stunned. “Where am I supposed to go?”

“Your home, for starters,” Severus suggested. “Then, if I were to make a recommendation, I would say you contact Miss Weasley and court her. Get married, have a handful of brats that I will be fortunate to not have to educate, and live a very happy life in your peaceful home sweet home.”

“This is about the _Quidditch Weekly_ bit, isn’t it?” Harry asked. “I told you, I told them Ginny and I weren’t an item but they insisted on running that photo.”

Severus could feel his willpower shattering. He was fast losing control and needed Harry to leave. Immediately. “This is about nothing,” he shouted. “I just don’t want you anymore!”

Harry’s face turned white. After staring at Severus for a long moment, he walked out of the study. A few seconds later Severus heard his front door close with a soft click.

Yes, Severus thought as he carefully crossed out Harry’s name on the piece of parchment, there was a world of difference between need and want.

~*~

But now, as Severus tossed and turned in his sweat, tear, and semen-stained sheets six months later, he thought that perhaps there wasn’t so great a difference after all. He didn’t _need_ Harry. He had gotten through a great many years of life without him and had functioned just fine. But now that he’d had a taste of what life was like with him, he certainly wanted him. To be denied something you yearn for so greatly, when you typically don’t yearn for anything more glorious than a hot meal, twists that want into a need. And Severus’s heart _ached_ of it.

It had been easy to pack up the physical reminders of Harry. There were few photographs of him in the house, and the odd trinkets Harry had given him during their time together had been neatly tucked away. All of the toiletries and clothing he left were folded into a box that lived in the guest room.

And when _The Daily Prophet_ pronounced the engagement of Harry Potter to Ginny Weasley, Severus immediately wrote to Gringotts and requested that the galleons he received for telling his story be sent to Hogwarts as a first payment for the next Potter child’s education.

That was simple.

What was infinitely harder was to rid himself of the memory of Harry. It haunted Severus every moment of every day. Try as he might, he couldn’t rid the thought that every gust of wind was Harry sweeping through the air on his broomstick, that every creak was Harry opening the front door, that every thud the damned house made was Harry bounding up the stairs …

“Severus?”

Wonderful, now he really _was_ hallucinating. He eyed the box in annoyance.

“Severus?” A click, then the squeak of a door opening. “Merlin, you look like shite.”

The box dropped to the floor. Just as it had earlier, the lid popped open, causing the ridiculous tune to immediately swell in a sweet crescendo.

“Harry?” Severus asked, still half-convinced it was a dehydration-induced mirage.

“Hey,” Harry said, and moved closer. He was dressed in very fine grey dress robes that were embroidered with sparkling silver threads. And while his eyes were as lovely as always and his features just as handsome, Severus could tell that he had lost some weight and looked slightly ill at ease. Ill at ease, but oddly … determined.

“What are you doing here?” Severus asked, his voice little more than a rasp. “Today’s your wedding day.”

“Really? I’m surprised you noticed, given that you didn’t RSVP.”

Severus snorted. “I hardly thought you actually wanted me at your wedding.”

“I did,” Harry whispered. He approached the bed and took Severus’s hand. “God, Severus, you have no idea how much I wanted … how much I needed you there.”

Severus’s throat felt suspiciously tight. He had not cried once throughout this entire ordeal, and he was not about to do it now, not in front of Harry. “Well, then you’ve truly gone mad.”

Harry dropped Severus’s hand and began to pace about the room. “I know what you did with the money, you know,” he said. “Minerva told me you put it all towards my first child’s Hogwarts tuition.”

Severus shrugged. “I had no need of it.”

“And I know the song that’s playing,” Harry continued, as if he hadn’t heard a word. “Molly was humming it all while we were doing the wedding preparations. I finally asked her. It’s ‘I Can’t Give You Anything But Love.’ Isn’t that right?”

Severus avoided Harry’s eyes, a feat that was rather difficult to do since Harry was somehow everywhere in the room at once. “What of it?”

Harry stopped his infernal pacing. “You don’t think you’re good enough for me. You c – no, you _love_ me, but you don’t think that’s enough. What is it? Is it because you’re twenty years older than me? Or that you were a former Death Eater? Or that you were a right berk to me for years?”

Severus peered down at the blankets. Harry’s words were like rubbing salt in old wounds. Perhaps, if he concentrated on the stitching on the blanket, this Harry nightmare would all go away. _Hmm, twelve very neat stitches in a row, then an angle …_

“Severus, look at me!” Harry shouted. He grabbed Severus by the hands, and when Severus still didn’t glance his way, hauled him up out of bed by the shoulders. Severus felt wobbly on his legs, having not stood or eaten all day. “I thought you of all people would know me better than that. You’re the only person I’ve been with who was interested in _me, Harry_ , not The Boy Who Lived. And what’s more, I _love_ all those wretched bits about you. I love the fact that I still get under your skin, but now it makes you want to fuck me, not kill me. There’s always been something between us, Severus. You know I was deliberately provoking you that first time at your shop? I had seen the way you looked at me and I knew you were _this close_ to snapping, I could feel it, and there wasn’t anything I wanted more. And that hasn’t changed at all.”

Severus felt his heart racing. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. He knew Harry and he knew the things that he valued most–love and loyalty–and he had carefully, with painstaking detail, betrayed him. Why was Harry speaking in the present tense? How had this all gone wrong?

“I hurt you,” he finally bit out. “I hurt you and I did it intentionally. How can you be standing here?” A thought occurred to him. “Did you come to rub your new marriage in my face? Now that you’ve figured out the truth, you want your own revenge by coming back to show me what I’m missing?”

Harry moved his hands from Severus’s shoulders to his face. “No, Severus. Never.” His fingers were painfully tight as they dug into Severus’s cheeks. “Do you know why I wanted you there, at my wedding? I wanted you there to object.” His face crumbled. “God, Severus, I wanted you to object.”

“I could never be so selfish,” Severus said roughly. “Ginny can give you things I never could. A family, children, a life where you don’t have to deal with the talk and whispers of people who don’t understand what you could want with someone like me …”

“Ginny can’t give me what I want most,” Harry said sharply.

Severus snorted. “My my, a prudish Weasley? Will wonders never cease?”

“It’s not like that,” Harry snapped. “We never did more than kiss, not that it’s any business of yours.” He paused and closed his eyes, apparently composing himself. When they fluttered open again, he had apparently regained his footing. “She can’t give me _you_.”

Severus shook his head. “I can’t give you–”

“Anything but love, I know,” Harry said. “Fortunately, that’s the only thing I want, the only thing I need.”

And then, before Severus scarcely knew what was happening, Harry had pulled Severus’s face toward him and was kissing him like a man taking his last breath. It was desperate and beautiful, and Severus was wholly sucked in.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Harry breathed in between kisses. “So damn much. I thought about you every single day.”

“You shouldn’t have,” Severus said, moving his lips down Harry’s neck. “You should have forgotten about me.”

“Never,” Harry said firmly, and moaned as Severus licked that place where his neck met his shoulder. “Never. Severus. Severus, stop.”

Severus pulled back, his mind dazed. He was so close to losing himself completely in Harry’s arms–which was what got them in this mess in the first place. “What?”

“I need to hear you say it,” Harry said, his voice shaky but his eyes certain. “I just left my best friend’s sister at the alter. The only reason I escaped without a beating was because Hermione held Ron back. So I need to hear you say it, just once.”

“You’ve figured out the truth of it anyway,” Severus said. “The only reason I never said it before was in hope of shielding you from it. I should have known you would be stubborn. But there is no question, Harry. I love you, and you know it.”

The smile that spread across Harry’s face reminded Severus of exactly why he had never admitted it before. Had he seen that expression of pure joy, wonder, and yes, hope, before, he never would have been able to push Harry away.

Now, with Harry back in his arms, it seemed rather pointless. All he had accomplished was to spend six miserable months alone when he could have been happy with Harry. Still, a small part of Severus was shouting for joy, arms outstretched in victory. Harry had chosen him over the beautiful woman the public had been cheering for him to marry. Severus might never fully be rid of the stigma of being called the scourge of the Wizarding World, but Harry didn’t care. Harry had chosen _him_.

“I love you,” Severus repeated, just because he could and there was no reason in keeping it quiet anymore. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Harry said, and once again pulled Severus’s lips towards his.

Severus groaned and thrust up against Harry, thrilling in the feel of his erection against his own. This was _his_. Severus, who had never had anything wonderful in his life, had _this_.

“I haven’t bathed,” he muttered, feeling he should at least give Harry the opportunity to request they retire to the bath first. “I’m afraid I wasn’t quite up to it today.”

“Don’t care,” Harry said as he pulled open Severus’s dressing gown and let it drop to the floor. “I want all of you.”

Severus hissed as Harry latched onto a nipple. He tugged Harry back with him until they landed back on the bed. Harry straddled his waist, continuing his explorations with his tongue and teeth while also tearing at his own clothing.

“You drive me mad,” Harry said. He made his way down Severus’s chest, stopping just before his pubic hair. “Every fucking thing you do. You drive me crazy and I fucking love that about you.”

And with that, he took Severus’s cock fully in his mouth.

Severus couldn’t help but shout. He had dreamed about this often during their time apart, and always woke up feeling vaguely ashamed. But now he would allow himself nothing less than gratitude–he had tossed this incredible man out, attempted to destroy him, and somehow, against all odds, he came back.

“Harry, stop.”

Harry stopped bobbing his head up and down on Severus’s prick and glanced up at him, a sly glint in his eye. “Too close?”

“I’ve gone six months without you. The only way I’m coming is inside your arse.”

“Brilliant,” Harry grinned, and rolled over to open the drawer of the bedside table. He pulled out a jar of lubricant and moved to hand it to Severus. Then, abruptly, he stopped. A slow smile spread across his face. “I have a better idea.” He unscrewed the lid, dipped his fingers in the liquid, and slicked up his hand. “Want to see what I’ve been doing for the last six months?”

Severus’s mouth went dry. “Yes. Please.”

Harry moved off of Severus and began to stroke his cock. It had already been fully hard, but it seemed to jump in his hand. “Every night,” he whispered. “Every night I would masturbate. Always with my eyes closed. Then I could pretend it was you.”

Powerless to stop himself, Severus grasped his own cock, matching Harry’s movements with his own. A drop of pre-come leaked from the tip. He caught it with his fingers and spread it over his prick, groaning at the sensation.

“I needed you so bad,” Harry said. “I could practically still feel it. You never left me. Not really. I could still feel you cupping my balls,” he did so, “still hear the way your breath catches in your throat like you just can’t help yourself.”

He couldn’t help himself.

“Then I would have to stretch myself with my fingers. I could never use any toys–it was too obvious it wasn’t you. But my fingers … ” Harry leaned back, offering Severus a clear view of his hole, which Harry was teasing with his fingers, “those could substitute. Because I could pretend I was doing what I’m doing right now--watching you watch me fuck my arse with my fingers.”

_Just like that._

“Watch me as I thrust them in and out.”

_Yes._

“And then I use my one hand to stroke my cock, but I’m fucking myself faster with my fingers, stretching, preparing myself for you, waiting for you.”

“God, Harry!” Severus gasped. After quickly coating his prick with the lubricant, he slapped Harry’s hands out of the way and replaced his fingers with his cock.

“Yes, Severus!” Harry cried as Severus slid home. “Yes! This … this is it.”

Yes, this was it. This was madness, this was nothing Severus deserved, but god damn it, he was going to take it. Harry was offering himself completely–at the moment, both literally and figuratively–and Severus would be a fool to even contemplate giving that up now. He had given Harry a fair chance. Now?

“Mine,” Severus grunted as his prick brushed against Harry’s prostate, eliciting a sharp gasp from him. “Mine.”

“Yours,” Harry agreed. “Always.”

Severus couldn’t hold back after that. Frantically, he pounded deeper and faster into Harry’s willing body, encouraged by his moans. Feeling Harry’s fingers dig into his back and his lips brushing any part of his body they could reach, Severus had never felt more alive.

_This is what it feels like to be wanted. To be needed._

Severus came with a shout, feeling his come fill Harry’s body. Not waiting for his prick to fully soften, he pulled out and took Harry’s cock in his mouth. In a few sucks Harry shot his release into Severus’s mouth.

“Mmm,” Harry murmured, and pulled Severus close to him. “Even better than I remembered.”

_Because it_ was _better._ Any barrier that had existed before them was now torn down. Severus rejoiced in the freedom of it.

They stayed together, wrapped in each other’s arms, feeling each other’s heartbeat. Their fingers trailed over each other’s bodies in time with the song that the music box still contentedly played on. Curious, Severus wordlessly Summoned it to them.

The tree was no longer barren. Its branches were covered in leaves, completely filling the lid of the box. The tree itself seemed bigger now. It stood as strong and determined as before, but where there was once stoicism was now replaced with a soft fullness. It made the tree seem more alive.

“It’s beautiful,” Harry said quietly.

Severus nodded. “Are you disappointed the song didn’t change? To something cheerier, more full of hope?”

Harry smiled and snuggled in close to Severus. “I would have been disappointed if it had. I don’t need any of the pretty words, Severus. I need exactly what you have to give me.” He kissed Severus on the lips. “And since I’m pretty sure you have that in abundance, that gives me plenty of hope.”

Severus tucked Harry’s head under his arm and threaded his fingers through his hair.

That was all he needed.

_I can't give you anything but love, baby._  
 _That's the only thing I've plenty of, baby._  
 _Dream a while. Scheme a while._  
 _We're sure to find,_  
 _Happiness, and I guess_  
 _All those things we've always pined for._  
 _\-- “I Can’t Give You Anything but Love,” Dorothy Fields_

 

-The End-


End file.
